A Perfect Lemon Donaghy Christmas
by Lear's Daughter
Summary: Just another Christmas in the Lemon-Donaghy household many years down the line.  Jack/Liz.


Disclaimer: I don't own _30 Rock_.

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><p>Anna waits until they've finished eating to tap her champagne glass lightly with her knife to grab everyone's attention. Of course, Anna being Anna, the champagne glass promptly explodes, sending shards of razor sharp glass flying.<p>

The bulk of the glass is aimed straight at Grandma Colleen, who moves with lightning fast reflexes to grab Mom's plate and use it to shield herself. (Dad used to tell Anna all the time that Grandma Colleen was once a ninja. Anna still believes it.) Unfortunately, this leaves Mom without any means of defending herself—not that she could use her plate to good effect even if she had it—and two stray shards of glass manage to slice off some chunks of her hair, leaving her with a very unattractive hair cut.

Anna watches as Mom turns very red. She can feel her own cheeks flushing and knows that the resemblance between the two of them right now is uncanny.

Dad, seated across the table from Mom, leaps to his feet more quickly than a man of his advancing years should and hurries over to Mom to check for cuts. Mom tries to wave him off, embarrassed, but he ignores her frantic gestures in lieu of gently grasping her chin in his hand and turning her face this way and that.

"You're perfect," he tells her in his lowest, most intent voice.

Mom rolls her eyes, then strains up in her chair to give him a quick peck on the lips.

"What about me?" Grandma Colleen demands. "I came this close to meeting my maker just now!"

"You're never going to die, Colleen!" Dad barks back, never tearing his eyes away from Mom's.

Crisis averted, the family resettles itself, though this time Dad moves to stand behind Mom's chair, his hand on her shoulder.

"You have something to say, kiddo?" Mom says after a minute passes.

Anna glances at the man sitting beside her. He gives her a quick smile and a brief nod of encouragement.

She takes a deep breath. "Mom, Dad, Grandma Colleen, Uncle Tracy—" the last is directed toward the unconscious man in the corner "—Victor and I got married last week."

There's a long, long moment of silence as her family gapes at her and she gazes back with as much poise as she can muster.

Dad's the one who finally breaks it. "No, you didn't," he says.

Anna sighs. "Yes, Dad, I did."

"No," he counters, running his hand through his rapidly thinning hair, "you didn't. Your wedding is going to be the event of the decade, remember? Your mother and I are going to give you away together. We still hadn't decided whether to invite Colleen. Is any of this ringing a bell?"

"All of it is," Anna says. "That's why we eloped."

"Where did you do it?" Mom asks. She sounds calmer, but she's clutching Dad's hand as if she wants to break it.

Anna takes Victor's hand. "You know that I've always wanted my wedding to be as romantic was yours was, so, well, we took a page out of your book. We went to Maui and did it on the beach."

Dad chokes a little. Worried, Mom springs out of her chair and directs him to sit. His health has been rocky for a long time. (Unlike Grandma Colleen's health, which is always perfect. Dad often says that Grandma Colleen is immortal, and Anna still believes it.)

"Honey," Mom says slowly, "your dad and I didn't get married on a beach in Maui."

Anna frowns. "But you always said—"

"I told you lying to the girl would cause problems for you later!" Grandma Colleen proclaims triumphantly.

"The first time you asked, you were a bit young to be told the truth," Mom explains, glaring at Grandma Colleen. "After that, well, you seemed to like the story so much…"

"So where _did _you get married?"

"Las Vegas," Dad says. It sounds like he's gotten his breathing under control, thankfully, and his color is returning to normal. He and Mom smile softly at each other. "It was a drunken Vegas thing while we were on a business trip for your mom's TV show."

The words are a dash of cold water on all of her romantic notions about her parents. She'd always known that their relationship had been rocky before their marriage—that they'd been friends more than romantic partners—but she'd also thought that they'd eventually realized that they loved each other and decided to elope to avoid having to invite Grandma Colleen to the wedding. The truth is a shock.

Except…Except she sees the way they look at each other. She's doubted a lot of things in her life—being raised by a liberal and a Republican can do that to a person—but she's never doubted that her parents are completely and utterly in love.

"Whatever," she says. "The point is, we got married the way we wanted to. You know I've never liked to make a big deal about things."

Dad points an accusing finger at Mom. "Those are your genes talking."

Mom shrugs, grinning, and bats the finger away. "She's as much a Lemon as a Donaghy, Jack. You've always known that." Mom walks around the table, yanks Anna out of her chair, and pulls her into a rib-breaking hug. "I'm so happy for you," Mom says.

Anna starts when a second pair of arms are suddenly wrapped around them, only to relax at Dad's familiar scent, whiskey and bacon.

"As long as you're happy," he tells her.

"I am," she says.

"Did you take his name?" Grandma Colleen demands, interrupting the pleasant moment.

Anna pulls away just enough to see Grandma Colleen's face, remaining in her parents' embrace. "I did," she said. "But I kept my own, too."

Dad groans, looking faintly ill again. "You don't mean…"

Anna grins. "Mom, Dad, Grandma Colleen, Uncle Tracy—" the last is directed at the unconscious man whose foot is in now smoldering in the fireplace "—all future mail you send me should be addressed to Anna Lemon-Donaghy-Wu."

"I'm proud of you, kid," Mom tells her.

In typical Lemon fashion, Anna and Mom try for a fist pump, miss, and both end up decking Dad in the eye.

It's a perfect Lemon-Donaghy Christmas.


End file.
